Purple
by Bremol
Summary: The color of one's clothes can bring about all sorts of things...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This started off as a one-shot that grew until it wound up needing to be split into two parts. This is a birthday gift for my dear batty.**

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Richard watched Isobel as she sat sipping champagne. He wasn't sure why he'd been invited to her birthday party, though he suspected that the Dowager Countess had something to do with it. The woman had been a near menace in her not so subtle maneuvers to push him and her cousin together.

He'd tried to tell the woman that Isobel wasn't interested in him as anything other than the man she liked to quibble with over hospital things, but she wouldn't listen.

He couldn't tell her how he'd very nearly proposed to Isobel at the fair only hours before Matthew was taken from her. That would be an embarrassment for himself as well as Isobel.

"Why aren't you dancing with her?" Violet's voice broke into his thoughts.

"She hasn't dance with anyone since dancing with Lord Merton when the dancing first started."

"He's an atrocious dancer. She's probably decided it's best to just sit and watch to keep from having to dance with him again."

Richard turned to look at Violet with a scowl. "I've seen him, he can dance."

"You'd be amazed." Violet murmured, never batting an eye, unmoved by the scowl thrown her way.

Richard sighed and looked down into his whiskey glass. "She isn't interested, My Lady, and she's only started coming out of her mourning." He looked up and smiled as he watched Isobel talking with Lady Edith. Isobel was a beautiful woman, he'd always thought as much, but there was something about her in purple that made his heart race just a little more than it usually did when she was near.

Violet watched the doctor as he watched Isobel. She knew he thought he kept his feelings for her cousin to himself, but she could see how he felt in the way his eyes followed every movement Isobel made. She'd made a point of inviting the man, hoping something would happen between the two, but so far he'd done nothing but sit and watch.

Violet rolled her eyes. Her cousin wasn't much better. She'd hardly noticed the good doctor, though Violet had caught her watching him when he'd been dancing with Lady Shackleton. Prudence had been asked to the party specifically to be there for Dickie Grey because Violet wanted him distracted from his pursuit of Isobel. He wasn't right for her cousin, and that was that. And it wasn't for the reason her family all assumed, either. She might have once, years ago, thought it would be awful to have Isobel suddenly have the same social status as herself, but not now. Her cousin had become a friend, though she wouldn't admit that to anyone, and the loss of Matthew had made Violet feel an affinity for the woman that had shocked her when she realized it. She knew Isobel, and the type of woman she was, and being a Baroness would be too restricting to her personality and she would be miserable which was the last thing she needed after losing her only child. Violet's heart hurt just thinking of it. She'd felt herself breaking apart at the loss of their dear Sybil, but to actually lose a child she'd given life to, she wasn't sure if her heart could bear it.

Huffing at her wayward thoughts, she looked at Richard and found him still watching her cousin. "Do stop staring and go ask the woman to dance. I happen to know she likes this song."

Richard blinked in surprise at being caught then looked at Violet. "My Lady, I…" he started, but she cut him off.

"Must I use my position?"

Richard rolled his eyes and gave in. "Fine then."

Violet merely sniffed and looked pointedly in Isobel's direction. "She'll be glad of a partner who doesn't step on her toes."

RnI

Richard realize his mistake the moment he'd felt Isobel's hand in his own. His body had reacted against his will and he'd done his best to keep his heart rate even and his breathing steady. His concentrating on those things had led Isobel to believe he hadn't really wanted to dance with her which had in turn led to the beginning of their dance being very awkward.

"You're beautiful in purple," he whispered, then wondered how that had managed to slip out.

Isobel startled and looked up at him, surprise written all over her face. "What did you say?"

"You heard what I said. While I didn't mean for the thought to slip out, I did mean it. You _are_ beautiful in purple." Swirling her around, he easily moved them about the room.

"Why did you ask me to dance?"

"Why do you think? I had no plans to ask you to dance. I know you think of me as nothing but an acquaintance, and I'm perfectly fine with that, but your cousin has other ideas. Lady Grantham insists on trying to push us together and doesn't understand why I'm not trying to win your affections. I can't tell her the reason, so here we are. When this song is over, I'll make up an excuse and leave."

Feeling her heart pound, Isobel stared into the grey-blue eyes of the man that deep in her heart she knew she loved…had loved for quite some time. It broke her heart to hear him say she only thought of him as an acquaintance because he was so much more than that. "Please don't leave," she whispered, moving gracefully along with him when he twirled her around again. "I don't think of you as just an acquaintance. I consider you my friend. I don't know of anyone of my acquaintances that have done as much for me as you have. It was you that broke the news of…" her voice broke and she cleared her throat then carried on. "It was you that came to me when it seemed I was getting lost in my grief. The family, save Violet, were all concerned with Mary as well they should have been, but I had no one else. Violet saw what was happening and tried to bring me out of it." Squeezing his hand as she held his gaze, Isobel confessed something she'd held inside for months. "It was you and your visits that helped me. You urging me to come to the Abbey to hear Dame Nellie Melba sing, that was the turning point for me."

"I'm glad to know that you think of me as a friend, but Isobel…" he sighed when the song ended. "I really should go."

Isobel frowned as she held onto his hand and looked about a bit before half dragging him off to the library. Closing the door behind them, she turned and rested her hands on her hips. "What were you going to say?"

Richard felt his body reacting again and this time didn't bother to try and control the racing of his heart. She was glorious when she was in this mood, and it was a mood he'd seen often. "I was going to tell you something you don't want to hear. Something I should have told you before I made a bungling fool of myself at the fair that day."

"Say it." Isobel demanded, her fingers digging into her hips as she tried to calm herself. She wasn't so old that she didn't feel the charge in the air around them. It was making her feel alive, more alive than she'd felt in ages.

"I can't. My heart can't take another…" he shook his head. "I should go and you should get back to the party. They'll wonder where the guest of honor has gone to."

"I know that I hurt you that day."

"I hurt myself. I was tired of being alone and I enjoyed our talks. It was nice to have someone that understood what a doctor's life is like, but that shouldn't have made me think that I had the right to propose marriage. Or at least try to, anyway. You were right to stop me."

"I was wrong. Now tell me."

"What good will it do, Isobel?"

"Tell me."

Turning away, Richard stared out the windows into the darkness. "I love you."

Isobel stumbled back against the door. Lifting a hand, she laid it over her heart, whether to check that it was still beating, or to keep it from beating out of her chest, she had no idea. She'd suspected this was what Richard had nearly told her, but hearing the words whispered in a thicker brogue that she was used to hearing from him…dear heaven above. How had she not been affected by his voice before?

Shaking herself out of it, she took a deep breath then pushed away from the door and made her way to where Richard still stood staring out into the black abyss that had swallowed the Abbey grounds when the sun went down. Reaching out a shaky hand, she touched his arm. "I love you, too. I have for far longer than I've been willing to admit."

"And why admit it now?"

"Because life is too short to continue to let my fear keep me from the happiness you can bring me if I'll let you."

Turning to face her, Richard studied her. Lifting a hand, he gently cupped her cheek. "You're beautiful," he whispered.

"You've told me that, only I believe you included the color of my dress the last time."

"I did. I know that you wear purple because you're still mourning, but I think of it as the color of royalty. To me, you are royal, you deserve to wear purple and have all the things I can't give you. All I have, Isobel, is love. I can't give you what Mr. Crawley did. And I can't give you what Lord Merton can."

"You're wrong. You can give me what Reginald gave me and you can most certainly give me what Lord Merton can because while he may love me, or think he loves me, I don't love him. I'm not interested in being a Baroness or dealing with his ridiculous sons just for the sake of not being alone anymore." Stepping closer, she tilted her face further into Richard's hand. "Ask me again," she whispered.

Richard blinked in surprise at her words. "Isobel, are you sure?"

"Ask me," she breathed.

Studying her, Richard found in her eyes the answer she hadn't yet spoken to his unasked question. Lifting her hand to his lips, he pressed a soft kiss to the back. "Will you marry me, Isobel?" his words came clearly, no hesitation, no stumbling as there had been that day at the fair.

Isobel smiled making the tears that had pooled in her eyes spill over. "I will," her answer was just as clear.

Pulling her into his arms, he stared down at her a moment before lowering his lips to hers. The kiss was tender and full of love and over more quickly than he would have liked, but now wasn't the place for more. Pulling back, he caressed the tears from her cheeks. "Your family will disapprove."

Isobel chuckled, a brilliant smile on her face. "Not the one that forced you to dance with me."

Richard laughed and squeezed her to him. "No, I suppose not."

"And no one will have much to say against her opinion." Isobel shrugged. "Besides, I don't much care what the others say."

"And Lord Merton?"

Isobel sighed, "Is a very nice man, but more suited to Lady Shackleton. He only fancies himself in love with me because I'll sit and listen to his medical stories without fuss."

"It would seem your cousin was up to more than pushing us together." Richard commented, remembering that he'd seen Lady Shackleton talking with Lord Merton several times during the evening.

"So it would seem, the scheming menace."

Richard laughed again, suddenly feeling like a young boy again, skipping about the moors. "I feel as though I'm going to burst with happiness."

Sliding a hand up his chest, Isobel lightly traced his face with the tips of her fingers. "So do I. Take me back to the party. I suddenly feel a renewed interest in celebrating."

RnI

Violet watched with a smirk playing about her lips as Richard and Isobel gracefully moved about the dance floor. She'd seen the way the two looked at each other as they came back into the room, and she'd noticed the scowl that appeared on Dickie Grey's face when he'd noticed that the two had come back holding hands and much happier than they'd been when he'd seen them dancing. She had been the only one to notice Isobel practically dragging the good doctor out of the ballroom and she'd been very pleased with herself for having been so pushy and accomplishing what she'd set out to do.

As the others moved off to the side to watch the couple dancing, Violet felt her worries for her cousin ease and disappear. The doctor was very skillful on the dancefloor, guiding Isobel with the ease of one who had spent years with a master teaching him so that he could appear in society and not embarrass himself at the many balls he would attend…though she knew that Richard Clarkson hadn't been to any society balls until he'd come to Downton and become entangled with the Crawley family. She'd have to ask Isobel how it was that their doctor was a better dancer than half the lords in the room.

Seeing the smile on the doctor's face as he looked down at the woman in his arms, Violet quirked an eyebrow. It would seem that a wedding was in the family's near future.

She was better at this match making business than she thought.

RnI

Isobel chuckled when she caught sight of Violet watching them. "We're being watched."

"By the whole room."

"Yes, but they weren't who I was talking about. Our matchmaker hasn't taken her eyes off us since we came back."

"Should I give her a reason to watch with such interest?" Richard's eyes glinted with mischief.

Isobel blushed even as she smiled. "Richard," she scolded. "Behave yourself."

"If I must."

"You must…" she told him then lowered her voice, "…for now."

"I'd love to pull you closer…" he whispered. "…to feel your body pressed to mine as it was in the library when we kissed." Her love seemed to have emboldened him and loosened his tongue.

Blushing again, Isobel wished that they'd never left the library because she wanted to be held closer, wanted to feel his lips against her own once more. "Will you escort me home after the party?" she asked quietly just as the music stopped.

Smiling down at her, Richard nodded then stepped back a bit when people moved in around them. Tonight may be a party celebrating Isobel's birthday, but it felt as though it was suddenly Christmas and every other joyous occasion all rolled into one and he couldn't keep the smile off his face as he watched Isobel and accepted the compliments paid him by the ladies. Well, he amended his thoughts as he spotted the man heading his way and the smile faded, he supposed there was one thing that could change his mood.

Lord Merton.

But the lord never managed to make his way close enough to speak to either of them as he was stopped by Lady Shackleton. Richard supposed he had the dowager to thank for that bit of interception.

"Darling." Isobel murmured, bringing him back to the moment.

Richard smiled at the endearment. "Yes?"

"Come along. It's time I opened my presents."

Holding out his arm, Richard easily stepped in beside her, moderating his stride to match hers as they walked to the other side of the room where a table had been set up. There weren't many packages as the guests had been told no gifts, but the family had gotten Isobel a few things and wanted her to open them for all the guests to see.

Watching her carefully pulling ribbons loose and removing paper, he couldn't seem to keep his eyes from straying to her hands. They were small and slender with long fingers that gracefully pulled on the ends of bows and folded paper. He'd held her hand in his only briefly and it had felt so right there, fitting perfectly with his own larger one, but his mind kept going back to the touch of her fingertips as they traced his face. Those thoughts were going to get him in trouble if he didn't stop them because they were straying dangerously close to impropriety. He'd felt the charged air about them in the library, still felt the charge in the air now even though they were surrounded by others.

Did the others feel it too? Could they tell just how much he wished they would all disappear, leaving him and his beloved by themselves to be as they wished to be?

Catching the dowager's eye, he supposed at least one person knew. Leave it to her to be so smug, though he would have to thank her for pushing him. If she hadn't invited him and annoyed him into dancing with her cousin, he wouldn't be standing here with a full heart, knowing that the woman he loves returns that love and has happily agreed to be his wife.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I didn't start out to write an M rated story...Richard and Isobel had other ideas ;-).**

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Hearing the sound of the door echoing in the night air, Richard watched Isobel as she turned and leaned against it. He wasn't sure what she was up to, but the charge in the air that had surrounded them from the moment they'd shut themselves off in the library at the Abbey, was there now, and stronger than it had been. "Isobel," he whispered.

Smiling, she pushed away from the door and took his hand, leading him into the sitting room. "Start the fire?" she asked.

Richard nodded and moved to do as she asked, frowning when he heard the swish of her dress as she walked away. Keeping his eyes trained on what he was doing, he kept trying to figure out what Isobel was up to by listening to the sounds coming from the corner of the room. Hearing a distinct sound, he smiled as music began to fill the air…it was the song they'd danced their first dance to. Standing up, he turned to find Isobel standing behind him, a small smile on her face.

"Dance with me the way you talked about," she whispered.

Holding her gaze, Richard tugged off his coat and jacket. Finally turning away, he draped them over a nearby chair, sighing as he pulled the ends of the bow tie that had grown much too tight around his neck, pulling the bothersome item off to join the others.

Isobel watched each move, feeling a tremble move over her as her eyes kept straying to his hands. Sure and steady, large and strong, she remembered how it felt when his hand had rested on her back as they danced. _Those sorts of thoughts will get you into trouble, old girl_ , she heard her inner voice saying but shook her head to dismiss the thought. What sort of trouble could a woman her age get into?

"Isobel?" Richard said her name when she didn't seem to notice him standing in front of her.

Isobel shook her head and looked up at him. "Sorry," she told him with a smile. "Wool gathering."

Richard just smiled and pulled her into his arms, her body pressed to his, one hand on her waist…fingers curled over her hip…while the other hand rested against the small of her back. He'd known by the way she moved that she'd given up wearing a corset, but feeling her soft body without the unyielding stays of the undergarment made him groan. _This is a good way to get yourself into all sorts of trouble, old boy_ , his inner voice warned as his body reacted. Ignoring the voice, he began to move slowly to the music, putting a bit of distance between their lower bodies.

Isobel moved back into the position she'd been in. "I'm not a naïve young woman, Richard, don't shield me."

"I'm sorry for my body's unruliness."

Isobel lifted her head from his shoulder, her eyes dark as she looked up at him. "No need to be. We're alone, Richard. What happens, or doesn't happen, is our business."

Hearing the sincerity in her words, Richard nodded. "I just don't want to be ungentlemanly."

"I wouldn't mind if you were," she murmured as she rested her head back against his shoulder.

Pressing a kiss to her hair, Richard smiled. She was so very bold, one of the things that had enticed and incensed him in turn. Lifting his hand from her hip, he nimbly removed the pins from her hair, watching in rapt fascination as the sable locks fell about her shoulders and down her back. Putting the last pin in his pocket, he lifted trembling fingers and tenderly touched a silky tress, moving it back and forth under the pads of his fingertips, reveling in the sensation. "As soft as I'd imagined," he murmured.

"You imagined touching my hair?"

"Yes," he answered quietly.

"Richard," she murmured.

"Yes, love?"

Isobel smiled at the endearment. "What else did you imagine?"

"Isobel," he breathed.

Looking up at him, she saw the desire in his eyes and felt breathless with the knowledge of it. "Tell me."

"It isn't proper."

"We've already discussed that."

Richard closed his eyes and took a breath before opening them and looking down at her. "I've imagined us much like this. A fire…" he whispered before kissing her, his mouth moving easily over her supple lips, his body reacting to her eager response. "…your hair free of the confines of society…" he continued then kissed her again, this kiss more than the last. "…your body…" he started but took her mouth in a deeper kiss, groaning when her lips parted and her tongue met his as the kiss deepened further.

Pulling breathlessly out of their kiss, Isobel grasped his arms. "My body, what, Richard?" she managed to ask.

"Dear heaven, Isobel. This is madness. We can't continue this. I…"

"We can. Tell me," she whispered the oft repeated words.

"Your body bare and pressed to mine."

"And are you wearing clothes?"

"No," the word was barely spoken. "Isobel, I should go. I don't want to besmirch your good name."

"I'm a lady of a certain age, Richard. In some circles it's expected of us to take a lover," she whispered. "Show me, Richard."

"Here?"

"Here."

With hands that were far from the steady hands he was accustomed to, Richard slowly undressed Isobel until she was standing in front of him with nothing covering her but her hair which fell over her shoulders and covered her breasts. "Laird above," he breathed.

"Your turn." Isobel told him, no trace of nervousness evident. She had watched his eyes as he'd undressed her and any ounce of self consciousness she might have had, evaporated. All she saw in the eyes of the man she loved was desire for the body he'd slowly uncovered. Lifting her own hands, she undressed him in much the same way he'd undressed her, letting her eyes show him every thought she had as each inch of his body was bared before her.

Richard stepped out of the last of his clothes and waited for Isobel's next move. Hearing her breath stutter a bit, he ran his hands over her shoulders then pressed her body next to his, his own breath stammering in his chest. "Everything I imagined."

"What did you image after?"

Moving them slowly to the music, he held her close and rested his chin on her head. "So much more, but this is enough."

"Remember," she nudged him.

"I do, but are you sure? Once I let all control go, I'm afraid I won't be able to stop if you change your mind. I don't want to hurt you, Isobel."

"I won't change my mind. I'm standing naked in my sitting room with the man I'm going to marry, I don't think I could stop what is happening even if I wanted to…and I don't. It's been so long, Richard. I enjoyed being with my husband and I've missed that closeness. I don't have to wait until we're legally bound to enjoy it now that I'm not a young woman who has to worry over unplanned consequences."

Nodding, Richard pulled away a moment, moving to the settee to pull the piece of furniture closer to the fire. Sitting down, he held out his hand.

Isobel swallowed as she took Richard's hand, settling her legs on either side of his body as he pulled her into his lap. Looking down at him, she moaned when his hands lifted to caress her. She knew that he was learning her body as his hands moved over her and her head fell back, eyes closing as she let herself enjoy the touch and revel in the way it felt to be worshiped.

Richard moved over every inch of skin, pausing and concentrating on the places that caused her breath to hitch, a small moan to escape. He watched the firelight's shadows dance across her skin and sighed in appreciation of the beauty before him. Gently kneading the flesh of her buttocks, he repeated the action on her thighs as he moved his hands around to touch her intimately.

"Richard," she breathed as she shuddered at the touch. Opening her eyes, she looked down to watch as he touched her, bold in her movements as she reached out to grasp his shoulder with one hand, letting the other slide down to join his.

Richard felt the desire begin to boil his blood at the bold movement of his love. Leaning forward, he took a taut nipple into his mouth and suckled, feeling her head fall forward onto his as she moaned and struggled for release. "Let go, love," he whispered then suckled again.

Isobel cried out as her body gave in. It had been so long since she'd been with a man that she'd worried her body had forgotten how to react to pleasure, but as she trembled with her orgasm, she realized she'd been wrong. "Richard," she breathed when she felt him move and pull her closer, slowly sliding his length inside her until they were fully joined.

Richard held her hips, not moving until Isobel sat up and looked down at him, her hand on his face, her mouth covering his own as she moved her hips. This woman was everything a man could want, and as she moved over him, he told himself how lucky he was to have gotten a final chance to tell her how he felt. If he'd left as he'd planned to do, he'd have lost the chance to be with Isobel. Pulling from the kiss, he lifted his hands to push the hair from her face. "I love you."

Isobel's smile was brilliant. "I love you," she whispered just before she covered his mouth in a kiss once more, letting herself go and losing herself in the power of the love and desire surrounding her.

RnI

Richard pulled the throw from the back of the settee and draped it over Isobel's body as he cradled her close. He wasn't sure if seconds, minutes, or hours had passed, and found that he didn't care so long as she was pressed against him, resting in his arms. Her hair tickled his chest and he smiled at how mussed it was.

His heart was nearly overflowing with the love he felt for the woman in his arms, and he wanted to shout from the rooftops that she was his, though he was sure that would be frowned upon.

Isobel sat up and moved off his lap, moaning at the aching in her thighs. Gently pushing him back, she smiled when he laid down and made as much room for her as he could. Carefully lying beside him, she spooned her body into his, pushing against him as tightly as she could, sighing when his arms wrapped around her. "Richard?"

"Yes?"

"Is this what's going to happen every time I wear purple?"

Richard laughed and nuzzled her neck. How he loved this woman. "I would say it will be."

"Good then. I'll go out and purchase more."


End file.
